


The Male Client

by YourNarrator



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourNarrator/pseuds/YourNarrator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Renge is the manager of the Host Club, Kyoya becomes jealous and plans to take over. When a new client comes along, Kyoya finds his weapon to succeed. Just as hope seems gone, Kyoya wins the battle. So why did Renge give in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Okay, so this is the prologue. It’s going to be short and sweet so you all know where the first chapter begins. It may not make sense now but it will when you read the other chapters. Thanks!**

**I actually want to say that I’m proud of this. I normally hate everything I do but I actually like this. Please don’t be put off by the use of an OC- he’s nothing but a device. In fact there’s a chapter where he’s not even seen. It’s how the Hosts, Ritsu, Renge and Umehito react to him and his ordeal….**

The last day of autumn had dispersed by this matter of time. The first day of winter had finally snuck up from behind, happy to finally bring its darkness to the world. Nature was still reminiscing from autumn and so the leaves from the trees were still there. But winter had blew the leaves away from their neat piles and scattered them all to the cherry path. Thankfully most of the clients had decided to leave using the front gate, where winter had already started cleaning up autumn’s jolly mess with death.

The new season had also changed the sky. The sky was now a royal blue, the full moon now watching the world below in horror. Some of the stars peeked through to see why the moon was so upset but most the stars decided against it.

In deep contrast the interior of Ouran Academy were gleaming with joy. The female clients were lined up along the corridor that lead to Music Room Three. Their yellow dresses floated above the ground as they all waited in eager anticipation for the host club to open the door.

“Hooray! It’s Neko-Day!” Honey grinned gleefully whilst Mori tried to get him to sit still.

“We know, Honey, we know.” The twins sighed in reply, fixing their cat ears into place.

“I thought you two liked Neko-Day?” Haruhi asked curiously. The commoner was now a brown tabby cat, wearing an oversized cat onesie with the tail and ears as well. She was silently grateful for this costume as it was nice and warm.

“Yeah but it’s a bit of a naff day.” The twins complained again, fixing their ginger ears on. They decided not to wear onesies but orange tank tops and jeans. This made a very excited Honey very angry.

“You’re not real cats!” Honey huffed, wagging his little fingers at them. Ceasing the opportunity, Mori put the cat ears on Honey whilst he was distracted.

“Is everyone ready now?” Tamaki purred like the luxurious Persian he had always wanted to be.

“No. We need to wait for Renge.” Kyoya growled. The prince of darkness was now a black cat. He too ignored Honey and wore a black shirt and jeans.

The twins fixed their tails and rehearsed their lines. Haruhi finished setting up the extra furniture. Mori had successfully dressed Honey and was going to get changed himself when Honey looked up at him.

“Today’s Neko Day!” He said with the genuine excitement of a child, hugging his Use-chan whom was also dressed in a cat onesie.

“I know, Mitsukunni.”

“So that boy has to choose which host he wants, right?”

All of the hosts turned towards Honey, for he had said what none of them wanted to hear.

“I hope he chooses Tamaki,” Hikaru commented, “I hope so much he doesn’t pick us.”

“I hope he doesn’t pick me.” Kyoya stated bluntly.

“I actually quite liked hosting for him.” Tamaki shrugged.

“Me too.” Haruhi pitched in.

“Well, I LOVED hosting for him!” Honey shouted ecstatically, “And so did Takashi!”

Mori stared at him, his eyes now uncharacteristically wide.

“You will go and check he’s in the queue, right Takashi?”

The tallest host, wearing a black and white cat onesie, shook his head.

Then one of our story’s plot twists happened. The bulbs sparked simultaneously until the music room had been shrouded in darkness. Ritsu walked in as a red cat (Honey’s idea) and opened the curtain out of reflex. He would never know that the reflex was nature’s way of allowing the moon to watch the plot unravel. The hosts stood in silence, allowing themselves to rest. The feeling light had gone to allow the lenient darkness sink its teeth into their hearts. Nekozawa came in and padded his way to the window. He watched the world outside with no excuse as to what he was doing.

Then Renge busted into the room like a typhoon…

**Lel. This is suckish. You see I wrote six chapters before this because I realised that the first chapter is confusing if I don’t do this little bit.**


	2. The Male Freak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first proper chapter. It follows Kyoya's POV but from a third-person narrative. What does Renge want to tell the hosts? Who is this 'male client'?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The beginning of the chapters skip to the end of our story, then it does a flash back to their appointment with the male client and then skips back to the end for the chapter’s conclusion. I have took some artist licence and fiddled and exaggerated. Also you find things out very slowly when it comes to the OC. But (hopefully) it will be worth it. Each chapter follows one of the characters but in third person. But as characters often do not know the whole picture, do not trust the whole narrative. All shall be revealed! I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. I do apologise for my errors, making up new words and being very melodramatic.

 

 

The shadows lingered all over Music Room 3. They crawled up the walls; they danced on the ceiling; they flung themselves all over the furniture. They draped themselves everywhere. The peach-coloured walls now mixed with the royal blue sky outside to create a depressing purple. The shadows embraced the people in the room.

 

The majority of light that entered the room was the silver, soft light of the moon, which made everything in its path more elusive. This gentle lights teased the shadows away slightly. Due to this light, Kyoya could begin to approximate some of his friends’ features. He could make out their silhouettes; their cat features also. The only person who was not hidden in the shadows was Nekozawa, whom the shadows cowered away from as the moon stroked his pale skin.

 

The second light entering the room was mostly by the door, which protected the figures in the room from the screaming mass of fans outside. It was the light from outside, a light from a different world completely. Everyone could hear the excited chatting and giggling from the army of yellow. The light could only peek in from underneath the door. It danced mockingly as the shadows outside moved.

 

Kyoya sighed heavily, feeling yet another tedious burden rear its ugly head.

 

“Kyoya,” said the only silhouette without cat ears, “I want you to read this out.”

 

Kyoya grabbed the settled air for whatever was concealed by the shadows. He felt the soft, chilling skin of Renge’s hand and then moved towards her thumb to feel for what she wanted reading out. Paper.

 

Renge passed on the paper reluctantly, admitting defeat. In this bleak abyss of shadows, she surrendered to Kyoya. Immediately Kyoya took control. Firstly he was to rid of these treacherous shadows which endangered his new victory.

 

“Nekozawa, get the candles. Ten, one for each of us.”

 

The boy with the longest blond hair nodded. He delicately padded into the shadows, unforced in their territory.

 

Kyoya groped his way around the room he was normally so familiar with. The shadows seemed to distort the images so that Honey looked like a chair.

 

Eventually Kyoya found a chair and sat directly under the moonlight. Now the hosts could see their new leader perfectly but he could not see them. They were merely shadows with heart beats.

 

Umehito handed everyone a candle, just as he was instructed. Kasanoda fumbled in his pockets for his lighter and sparked a flame to life. He rested the new flame onto his candle’s wick. The two then merged to make a new flame, alarmingly safer than the flame on his lighter.  He dampened his fingers with the saliva on his tongue and suffocated the life out of the elderly flame. Using the new source of light, he lit the wicks of the others’ candles to create a nursery of flames, dancing around merrily and frightening the shadows further away, even though they were still part of the mass majority.

 

Now the flickering flames of the candles lit their faces, all of them ready for Neko-Day. The prince of darkness growled internally as he remembered that they were running late due to the power-out and Renge’s outburst with the letter. Folding one long, nimble twig of a leg over the other on his throne, he scanned the letter in his possession.

 

This letter was another victory for him. Despite the frown on his face, internally he was grinning. It was one less worry on his shoulders. One less argument with the King. One less stain on the Host Club’s reputation. One less freak.

 

He imagined the freak writing the letter, his brush artfully stroking the paper, every flick for effect. The dark boy could see the freak nodding proudly at himself, expecting the others to grieve over his sudden departure. Kyoya bit his lip to retain a giggle as he imagined the embarrassed expression on the freak’s face if he had managed to tell him that, although he used the right characters, he used them in the wrong order.

 

Then he returned back to reality. Although this letter brought good news to Kyoya, as the freak was nothing but a nuisance and a creep to Kyoya, he remembered that the other hosts had their different opinions about him. Thus, he should try to act solemn to sympathise with those who will grieve for this loss whilst remaining calm and keeping authority. So, with a gentle but yet controlled tone in his voice, Kyoya read out the letter to his subjects.

 

* * *

 

 

It was near the start of the spring when the male client scurried into Kyoya’s life.

 

The massacre from the winter’s reign still scarred the landscape, the weather and the memories in the students’ heads. But the winter’s power had loosened its frosty grip as a few flowers resurrected from underneath the frosty glaze that held the grass. The sun sparkled timidly, scared as if the winter would return too soon. However none of this was noticed by the Host Club.

 

Sat at a table, Kyoya was not hosting like his comrades. No, he was calculating numbers and working out percentages. A hurricane after hurricane full of numbers whirled in his head. Tamaki’s extravagance really was too much for him, this time. The account books were full of stupid, needless luxuries that only Tamaki and the Hitachi twins would think necessary. Kyoya sighed as he tapped in the newest set of numbers into his calculator. He read onwards in the account book to see if there was any good news to spear him on. It just so happened that there was. Despite Tamaki’s and the Hitachi twins’ massive costs, there was not many more. The female clients had been making Honey sweets, so many that the club did not need to buy any. Haruhi was like an unpaid maid, taking sheets home to wash and cleaning the club room up. The only costs left (excluding Tamaki’s purchases) would be the costumes. They were hardly a problem, Renge often had some spare. All seemed a bit better now for Kyoya. He became eager to finish the calculations so he could plan for the next event: Neko-Day. So he plundered on, facing hurricane after hurricane, until a voice distracted him.

 

“Excuse me sir.”

 

Kyoya first ignored the voice. He thought it was a fracture of his imagination. Mind tricks. His brain continued the Math-athon of numbers until the same voice interrupted him.

 

“Sir, excuse me, is this Host Club?”

 

Kyoya turned round. His dark eyes narrowed behind his glasses, looking the speaker up and down. It soon came apparent from the blue blazer that the speaker was a boy. Kyoya growled mentally. They often had males walk in, some causing arguments and disturbance as they came to find their girlfriends being fussed over. Others waltzed in to try and embarrass the Host Club by twirling their hair and puckering their lips at the Hosts. Many were kicked out; physically by Mori or orderly by the Prince of Evil himself. As his dark eyes examined the boy closely, Kyoya made judgements. Either this boy is a fantastic actor, Kyoya concluded, or he is looking for his girlfriend. Or perhaps he wanted to become a host. But then again, Kyoya added to his thought process, he is not the most attractive boy in school. He reminded Kyoya of when they first met Haruhi. The boy had scruffy, mousey brown hair that stuck up in any angle it desired. His clothes were too big for him, however, at least he could afford the uniform. His blue eyes tried to hide beneath his glasses, which slid half way down his nose every five seconds until the boy pushed them back up.

 

“Yes, this is the Host Club.”

 

The boy pushed up his glasses once again as a blush rose to his round cheeks. He looked down at his shoes, avoiding eye contact with the taller boy, biting his lip as his brain worked.

 

“D-Do I walk in or does someone sit me down?”

 

Kyoya registered the boy’s accent straight away. His Japanese was sloppy and his constant pauses in between words signified that he was not native. Kyoya’s brain also registered his accent nuances. It obviously meant he was German. But the pattern of his voice also suggested that he was not just German. His pattern matched that of a Russian’s. _So the boy is a Russian/German thing living in Japan,_ Kyoya deducted. Kyoya also guessed that the boy was another mocker, just one that was very good at acting. _Better to knock him out whilst I’m ahead,_ Kyoya decided.

 

“You need to make reservations in advance. We’re booked until next December.” Kyoya’s voice was flat and monotonous. Judging from the reading on his face, the boy bought the excuse. He hung his head even lower, his cheeks flushed more from embarrassment. The boy then bowed to Kyoya, mumbling a few apologies, before walking off to the door. Kyoya could not help but smile triumphantly to himself. Until that horribly familiar sound of an engine started. Kyoya watched as the boy jumped at Renge’s arrival. He jumped even more when Renge stormed up to the two males.

 

“Why do you want a reservation, hmm? Are you trying to steal the secrets of our success?” Renge viciously poked the boy.

 

“Nyet, Miss, I-- make a reservation.”

 

Renge stormed up closer, so her face was just a breath away from his. The boy blinked in surprise, taking a step back, only to be confronted by Renge again. Now it was Renge’s turn to scrutinise the boy. Her eyes looked him up and down, making more judgements, until she was satisfied. Unlike Kyoya, she was less suspicious.

 

“Kyoya, free some appointments for him.” Renge turned around to Kyoya, her voice calm and yet demanding.

 

“But-”

 

“Kyoya,” Renge hissed in Kyoya’s ear, “Do you not see what an opportunity this is for the Club? As the manager of this club, I order you to free some reservations for him.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, if he’s here to be a guest, think of all the girls that would come!” Renge had that insane twinkle in her eyes. The same that she had every time she had an idea. The same twinkle that made Kyoya groan.

 

“You,” Renge addressed to him, “Is there any particular host you want?”

 

 

“I... errrrr... Didn’t... I-I don’t mind.” The Russian/German replied.

 

“How about you try each host, and choose which one you like?” Renge suggested to the new-comer. A bit like Kanako, Kyoya thought bitterly. He thought he had triumphed. He thought he had stopped this... freak... from walking in and making a fool of the Host Club. But no, thanks to their “manager”, this boy was allowed to waltz right in and perish their plans.

 

 _Wait_ , Kyoya quickly schemed, _this could work_. If this boy did show his true intentions then Renge would become so embarrassed, Kyoya could not help but smirk again, that she would have to realise she was not qualified to be in charge. That would let him take over and call the shots without her constant intervening.

 

“Kyoya,” Renge turned to him. “You will make sure he gets reservations for each host, right?”

 

“Yes, manager.” Kyoya’s mouth twitched into a smile. He turned towards the intruder and put on the same mask he had put on day-in, day-out for the girls. “I look forward to seeing you join us next week.”

 

***************************************************************************************

 

“Mommy, what’s going on?” Tamaki asked like a child who would ask its mother in fright. At this point, it was the end of the day in Music Room 3 and the Host Club was doing its usual routine check-up of the room. Mori moved the furniture around, ready for whoever needed it tomorrow. Haruhi and Renge cleared up whilst Kaoru and Hikaru mopped the floor from the day’s charades. Hunny pranced around with his Usa-chan, making a running commentary of what was needed to clean next. Tamaki habitually walked round, picking out the strengths and weaknesses of his subjects; what they should do the next day and a congratulations for the day gone. He felt it boosted morale, when he really was just getting in the way. But on that day Tamaki noticed Kyoya writing furiously in his notebook. The ebony-haired student almost ripped the page from scribbling out too furiously. Yet, despite this violent action, he smiled to himself.

 

“Nothing’s going wrong, Daddy.” Kyoya replied. Tamaki blinked. He knew there had to be something wrong. He knew because Kyoya said ‘Daddy’ coyly. And, obviously, his Kyoya did not do that.

 

“Who are you and what did you do with Kyoya?!” Tamaki shouted fearlessly, jabbing his finger into Kyoya’s face.

 

“Oh shut up, Tamaki.” Kyoya said in that light-hearted tone that he used when he was overly happy. Tamaki decided that he needed to change tactic.

 

“Kyoya, tell me or I’ll tell Hikaru about last night.”

 

“Last night?” Kyoya blinked. “What happened last night?”

 

“Ohhhh~ Can you not remember? Or have you chosen to forgotten~?” Tamaki sing-sang mischievously.

 

“Tamaki, you’re doing that thing where you fantasise out loud.” Kyoya remarked.

 

“OHHHHH! HIKARU~! GUESS WHAT KYOYA DID~!!!” The Princely Host shouted happily. Hikaru looked up from his mop, only to see Kyoya strangle Tamaki.

 

“I’m happy because I have good news!” Kyoya growled as his hands ringed Tamaki’s long, pale neck.

 

“News. Tell.” Tamaki gasped once Kyoya’s hands had loosened their grip.

 

So Kyoya told Tamaki a censured version of the events with the “freak boy” and Renge. He told Tamaki that there was a new guest to the club, so new that they needed to try out all the hosts to see which took their fancy. Tamaki nodded in excitement. Then he told Tamaki that he kept scribbling out his notebook because he did not know how to arrange the new client’s reservations and how to replace the original reservations. Tamaki asked why the new guest could not wait in line until there was free space. That’s when Kyoya had to explain Renge’s intervention... And how the new client was male.

 

“A male client? NON!” Tamaki screeched. Kyoya nodded. Seeing Tamaki speechless was both comical and tranquil.

 

“A what?” Hikaru asked, walking over now he had finished his mopping. Kaoru soon followed.

 

“A male client is coming tomorrow.” Kyoya explained calmly to the two twins. Hikaru looked appalled and so did Kaoru.

 

“We’ve had male clients in the past. They lasted five seconds, tops.” Hikaru complained.

 

“It’s the manager’s decision.” Kyoya shrugged. “I have no power.”

 

“But I’m the King!”

 

“You’re a constitutional monarchy.” Kyoya reminded his blond friend, scribbling down some quick ideas at the back of his notebook. He was pondering over cat-colours. Hikaru and Kaoru could be ginger cats, he himself could be a black cat, Haruhi could be a calico cat, and perhaps Tamaki could be a white cat... but what about Mori and Honey? Typical Kyoya, getting his head wrapped up in tiny details.

 

Tamaki pouted at Kyoya’s remark. It was clear that he didn’t like being a constitutional monarchy, he wanted to rule his loyal subjects himself.

 

“What’s up you guys?” Haruhi asked, coming over. Her hands were subconsciously drying a plate with a towel.

 

“We’re getting a male client as of next week!” Tamaki’s blue eyes glinted with excitement. He found the correct time to make his morale speech. “Alright, men! We need to make him feel welcome!”

 

“You didn’t fuss over me when I first joined.” Haruhi commented in that naive voice she always used when she was pondering. Kyoya smiled to himself behind his notebook. Haruhi had a good point. At that point in time, Haruhi was their first male guest. They had no intruders at that point. So the Host Club naturally got excited.

 

“Yes, Haruhi, but we knew you from other people’s gossip. We knew you were a scholarship student...”

 

“... So we could use that to our advantage. But we don’t know anything about this client.” Kaoru finished the sentence off for his brother. Expectedly, everyone stared at Kyoya for a description.

 

“Well, he wasn’t anything special. He had short, fluffy brown hair that stuck up in quite a few places, it aimlessly tried to cover his face. He wasn’t the tallest and he wasn’t the shortest. He wasn’t the skinniest, actually he had quite a bit of girth. His accent was quite odd, like a German trying to do an impression of a Russian.” Kyoya could see that he had his underlings hooked. Hunny stared up at him, entranced, and so did Tamaki. Kyoya smiled, it was nice having all his colleagues’ attention for once. So he carried on. “He had blue eyes and wore square glasses. His blue blazer was too long for his body, and so were his trousers and shoes.”

 

“Wow.” Honey spoke in awe, as if he just seen the most beautiful cake in the world. Kyoya stared back down at Honey, soon becoming freaked out by the admirable look on his face.

 

“Great, so we know what he looks like.” Hikaru remarked sarcastically.

 

Kaoru added on: “How does that help us?”

 

Tamaki’s fingers snapped. Kyoya sighed, soon becoming bored.

 

“That’s it, men!” Tamaki shouted out heroically, fist in the air. His eyes glinted with that look of inspiration. The same look that made Kyoya smile grimly.

 

“Hikaru, Kaoru, find out all that you can about the German-y Russian-y boy!”

 

“Yes, Milord!” The Hitachi twins answered cheerfully.

 

“Mommy, make sure his appointments are ready!”

 

“Yes, Daddy.” Kyoya said morbidly, Tamaki’s beam of joy missing him completely. Seeing Kyoya like his normal, morbid self, made Tamaki feel more at ease.

 

“Who’s his next appointment, anyway?” Hikaru questioned the Prince of Darkness.

 

“Honey and Mori.”  


“Honey you keep being cute! Mori.... ehhh...you do what you do best.” The King covered his tracks as his slipped on what Mori does.

 

“Yes sir! Let’s go Usa-chan.” Honey laughed happily, Usa-chan tucked into his arms. He bouncily skipped off, leaving poor Mori desperately trying to keep up with him. Mori grunted as he turned his head towards His Majesty before running off to stop Honey from bouncing into a lamppost.

 

“And you Haruhi....”

 

“Yes, Tamaki-senpai?”

 

“Come here and give Daddy a big hug!” Tamaki grinned happily, holding his arms outstretched.

 

“I’d rather give Mommy a hug.” Haruhi retorted, before disappearing off with the Club’s washing. She really is like a maid, Kyoya said in his head. When the dark-haired boy turned round, he saw a very sad Tamaki sulk in the corner.  


“Daddy, I’m going home.”

 

“Why won’t she give me a hug?!” Tamaki’s voice screeched as he wept on his knees. His arms cradled his legs as he rocked himself to and thro.

 

“Daddy, I’m just going to leave the keys here.” Kyoya put down the keys on a table. “Lock up once you’re gone.”

 

“Why doesn’t my own daughter love me?”

 

Deciding it was best to leave him to it, Kyoya left Music Room 3 and embarked on his way home i.e. into his car. He could not help but be annoyed at the other hosts. Why were they too blind to see that he was a fraud... a freak? Why did they all get their hopes up, even after Hikaru reminded them that male clientele didn ot go down well? _Never mind,_ Kyoya sighed internally, _none of them will question me ever again when they see who he truly is._

 

His chauffeur drove pass the cherry tree when Kyoya got distracted. The cherry tree’s branches were no longer nude. Tiny buds were beginning to grow, though there was no way they were ready to bloom just yet. The sky looked like pale navy blue, clouds dotting the sky here and there. The sky is beginning to grow paler, Kyoya smiled, meaning spring will establish itself soon. A new beginning. Just like the new beginning of his reign of the Host Club, not Renge’s. However, as he looked at the cherry tree, something bugged Kyoya. It was one of the phrases he said when describing “freak boy”. It stuck in his head like a record player that never ended.

 

“He wasn’t anything special...”

 

* * *

 

 

Kyoya read it out but then paused at an interval. Kyoya glanced over it again, to let the truth sink in. It seemed more and more peculiar each time he read it. Everything, from the opening line to the signature. To the appearance to the content. Kyoya sighed. He was being suspicious over nothing; he never really knew the boy. He bit his lip as he looked up to his colleagues. They all had their unique personalities, their own interests. So it was only natural that when he glanced up he saw their different reactions. He glanced over to the teenage female that had handed him the note.

 

“Go on.” Renge wept, having already read it herself as she delivered it. “As manager, it’s your duty to read it to them.”

 

 To think he had waited so long for Renge to abdicate from the role of manager. For its sweetness to be overwhelmed by this... Ominous feeling. He was meant to be ruler, so what could this feeling be? Was it the letter? The sudden disposal of his problem? The nuisance. The intruder. The freak.

 

So Kyoya read the rest of the words to his colleague’s. His employees. His voice was suitable and stable, his eyes not leaving the note despite the many reactions that happened around him.

 

_Outside the cherry tree's leaves fell as the sun had already fell into its sleep._


	3. The Male Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first FanFiction for OHSHC. I’m used to writing Hetalia and Sonic fanfics so if you feel my style isn’t suitable, I’m awfully sorry. Please do read and review, so I know where I’m going wrong and what I’m doing right. 
> 
> I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. If I did then Kyoya would be the main character (he’s my favourite!).

Honey’s ears had stopped conforming. They had tuned into a different signal. The stinging sound of the shadows moving and whispering as the candles wavered around, they were far more preferable than Kyoya. Honey could not help but feel like the shadows were slowly but surely consuming him, smacking their lips. Inch by inch, he was eaten like a cake.

 

The shortest host stared at his best friend. His small hands brushed against Usa-chan face, consoling his inanimate friend. Honey’s mind wondered if Usa-chan was crying or if it was his own tears, it was hard to tell in the dark.

 

After consoling the bunny to a reasonable degree, Honey selected to look at his cousin. Mori was almost invisible in the dark, he himself had already been eaten by the shadows. But his candle lit up his chest, which was quite hopeless in this instance.

 

Honey then surrendered to the black figures moving around. He gave in to the bad news. Soon it sank into every pore in his skin. Sank into his heart. Wandered into his mind. The immature host let his cousin parcel him in his arms. He let his eyes leak. He let his heart sink. And together, Mori and Honey and Usa-chan, made their own little silent pack. The pack who knew about the male cake.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The sun’s rays had only just skimmed Ouran Academy’s surface on that day. The sunlight was still hazily getting into action, leaving the Host Room subtly lit. In Music Room 3 the Host Club was preparing for another day of drama and excitement. And that is where Hunny’s memory begins.

 

It was still in the hazy memory of spring, with more and more flowers propping up here, there and everywhere. The weather had warmed up slightly, the sun more relax now that he checked his calendar. Yes, it was definitely spring and winter was definitely a long wait a way.

 

“So what did you find out, boys?” Tamaki grinned excitedly.

 

The older blond could not help but grin too. An atmosphere of eagerness and joy dominated the grand classroom. The Hitachi twins smiled also. Haruhi hummed happily as she draped the fresh table cloths over the tables. Radiating rainbows was Renge, who was getting the china ready. The only two not smiling was Kyoya, who stood brooding in the corner where the atmosphere still needed to conquer, and Mori. Mori was actually outside the room, gesturing to the girls to line up.

 

Honey and his bunny friend hopped around the room, making sure no one knew how he what was feeling inside. Externally he was beaming and buzzy; internally he was screaming and fuzzy. Worry shattered his energy. _What if the new boy doesn’t like me? How do I host for a boy?_

 

“We have found out that he’s shy...”

 

“....his Japanese is lousy...”

 

“....he seems to be half German...”

 

“...and half Russian...”

 

“...all weird” The ginger twins said in perfect unison at the end. Honey did not pick up the dryness in their voice. He carried on hopping away until he found Haruhi.

 

“So you boys found out the obvious?” Haruhi commented even dryer as she wafted the table cloth over the table, sending the fragrance of the commoner’s washing-machine to dust over the room. The cute-type looked over at the twins. They both pouted and growled.

 

“No, we also found out he’s in our year but in class D.”

 

“It’s hard to find out about someone like him.”

 

Haruhi rolled her eyes jokingly. The commoner turned towards Honey and said; “Excuses, excuses, eh Hunny-sempai?”

 

Honey giggled and nodded, making Usa-chan nod also.

 

“What cake should we put on Honey’s table?” Renge puzzled, now that the last of the china was being settled into place.

 

“STRAWBERRY!”

 

“Something with vodka. Russians like vodka.” Hikaru nodded to his twin, ignoring Honey’s pleas for strawberry cake.

 

“Please may I remind you that Ouran Academy doesn’t allow alcohol on the premises?”

 

“Mommy, you spoil-sport! How about Black Forest Gatuex? I think the Germans made that.” The King stroked his chin in thought. “I’m sure we have one. The one that creepy Polish girl made us.”

 

“Now, now, Tamaki, you can’t call a client ‘creepy’.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Hikaru grinned playfully, “We all know you’re scared of her.”  


“I’m not scared of her.” Kyoya pushed up his glasses and said coolly. “I just simply acknowledge the fact that she’s got a high level of testosterone.”

 

After much difficulty, Renge finally found the cake in question in the Host Club’s fridge, once she had negotiated her way pass the fancy tuna. It stood on Honey’s table with great pride, centre stage. Honey was comforted quite a bit. Any person from a nation that made something like the prestigious cake he had on his table had to be a lovely person. Simple.

 

Honey sat on his end of the couch, ready for the tidal wave of puffy yellow dresses to begin. And the quick glimpse of a blue blazer. However, Kyoya soon walked up to Honey, his note pad still by his side.

 

“Honey, will you go and ask Mori if he can see the newcomer? It shouldn’t be too hard.”

 

Jumping up from his seat and saluting, Honey bounced his way to his cousin. Once he arrived, an eruption of cooing from the girls started. His darker counterpart looked at him protectively.

 

“Kyoya asks if you can see the newcomer.” The blond cousin asked his darker cousin. In reply he shook his head. Hunny saluted and waved goodbye as he skipped back inside Music Room 3 with sounds of the girls’ coos trailing behind him.

 

Kyoya glanced up from his notebook to the shortest host. Hunny shook his head. Kyoya nodded and then went back to his notebook. A smile tweaked at his lips. Noticing this, Honey began to ponder about it. He also pondered over why all the boys, except Mori, stood around whilst the girls got things ready. However, Honey did not have long to ponder over these things. Haruhi hung up her apron whilst Renge got the flower petals ready. Honey’s cousin walked in from his guard-duty and the twins got the fan ready…

 

“Positions men!” The Host Club monarch roared this orders like a general going into battle. A battle against a deranged foe. A male client.

 

They raced to their positions. Honey was the cute cavalry, with Usa-chan as his noble steed. Mori was the cold canon, shooting balls of silence into the fogged battlefield. The twins were the scouters, looking here and there for enemy blows. Haruhi was the Joan of Arc, helping her soldiers win, even if it meant cross-dressing. Kyoya was a random Roman officer, neat and organised and probably suffering from OCD. Tamaki probably fancied himself as a knight, thrusting his sword in the air to gesture his army into battle. But Honey saw him as the lazy monarch who sat on his bum and divorced his wives, like that English king from history. That thought made Hunny giggle.

 

Renge dashed off into the side room and clicked her remote. The doors swung open, roses flittering and dancing in the air to land on the faces of the girls.

 

“Welcome!”

 

* * *

 

 

“It’ll be alright, Mitsukuni,” Mori said in his grumbly tone. Honey smiled. He could not believe he was so nervous before. As long as he had his Usa-chan and his Mori, nothing could go wrong. He looked across the room. Everyone was happily chatting away with their clients, with the exception of the twins, who watched their two girls walk away. The two girls made their way towards them, waving shyly.

 

“Konnichiwa!”

 

“Konnichiwa, Anna! Konnichiwa, Anya!”

 

Anya smiled at Honey whilst her friend gazed lovingly at Mori. Honey grinned back.

 

“We’re eating your cake today, Anna!”

 

“I can see.” She said, her eyes not moving from Mori. A small giggle escaped from Honey as he remembered what the other hosts were saying before. Now that he could see her again, Honey realised why Kyoya said she had high level of testosterone.

 

“Are you not hosting today?” Anya asked shyly, her voice squeaking as she did so.

 

“We are! We have a new cl-guest today!” Honey beamed. Quickly he remembered that Kyoya did not like them using the word “client” in front of the guests. It sounded a little harsh.

 

“How wonderful!” Anna jumped in, clapping her large but gentle hands together, “Is she nervous? I’m sure she’s in good hands.”

 

Honey was stuck. Big time. What was he to say? “No it’s a boy”? Regardless he smiled. Then he decided to play the same game when Haruhi was first forced to join the Host Club.

 

“Yep! They are running a bit late though.” He explained as he sat Usa-chan onto his lap. Hikaru and Kaoru came over and retrieved the girls. The two Polish ladies waved goodbye as Anya smiled shyly at Kaoru whilst Anna grinned at Mori. They were so obvious it was cute.

 

Then the doors flicked open a little, only to close on themselves again. Then they opened again and a figure was revealed. Gasping, the girls stared in awe, as if they had never seen a boy before. A figure walked right up to where Kyoya and whispered in his ear. A figure with a blue blazer. The female guests observed in silence as the male stranger received a piece of paper from the taller male and walked over to Honey’s table. The stranger had an odd walk, like a cross between a march and a model walk. If that was possible.

 

“Konnichiwa. So-Sorry I late, I had... errm... lost.” The stranger bowed and then sat down. Honey stared at him, unable to find words. He wasn’t like what he had pictured him to be. Honey had made his eyes dark blue, his real eyes were royal blue. Honey had imagined him with really cool, heavy rimmed big glasses. He had nerdy thin-rimmed glasses. Every little detail that Honey had conjured up did not fit the shivering pile of nerves in front of him.

 

“Your nose is small.” The lolita type’s words flew out of his mouth before he could catch them. All he could do was observe his reaction. Weirdly enough the stranger didn’t act like a normal person. A normal person would have been taken back, blinking at least. But the stranger in blue smiled happily.

 

“Da-Danke!”

 

Honey blinked. Danke? What kind of word was that? Honey decided that the blue stranger was so smart that he was using a very posh word to say thank you. Then nerves hit Honey’s fuzzy brain. What if he was insulting him? Honey gripped Usa-chan to his chest. The nerves from before began to strangle him as no words could get out of his throat. The words would not string together, forever being erased and replaced. The words soon strung together as Honey felt something touch his knee. It rested there and comforted him. He looked. It was only Mori’s hand.

 

“Danke means thanks.” Mori said plainly. Honey looked up at him and relaxed instantly. His thoughts drawn up the conclusion they often drew up. As long as he had his cousin and his bunny rabbit, nothing could stop him. Nothing at all. Suddenly Honey had ideas. Since he was the first host to have him, he could be the first one to get all the information on him. He could start from anywhere. But first’s first, Honey giggled, better start off with the easy things first.

 

“Konnichiwa! I’m Honey and this is Takashi!” Honey beamed joyfully. He gestured to himself and his tall companion. Then he held up his beloved smaller companion. “And this is Usa-chan.”

 

Honey studied his reaction. Normal clients cooed and melted like butter on toast. The stranger in blue chuckled softly and sat back slightly. _Maybe he’s not so terrifying after all_? Honey thought.

 

“N-Nice meet you.” The boy stuttered. He shuffled awkwardly, his shyness becoming more and more apparent.

 

“Can I call you Puki-chan?” Honey blinked twice to add effect on to his voice. The boy’s head jerked upwards, blinking rapidly. Sharply he nodded. Quickly he searched his satchel and brought out two books. He flicked open the green book and rummaged through.

 

“How are you today?” He read out loud from the green resource. Honey stared at his book. Soon it came apparent that it was a Russian or German to Japanese dictionary. Hand-made, by the looks of the graffiti scribbled on it.

 

“We’re fine, aren’t we Takashi?”

 

Mori nodded in reply. Honey made Usa-chan nod also. They all looked at the blue stranger. He smiled and nodded.

 

“Me also fine.”

 

For a few minutes there was no dialogue. Honey sighed inwardly. When this happened it meant that the client wasn’t suited for the hosts in question. Puki-chan was just too quiet. He was better off with Hikaru and Kaoru, who made their own entertainment. Or perhaps he was better suited to Tamaki, who often did most of the talking and action anyway. However, Honey was determined not to let the cracks show. He was going to make sure that the blue stranger enjoyed his stay so much it that he would not even realise that he was not suitable. Obviously he would guess after a while that the Hitachii twins or Tamaki was better for his needs, but that was after a while. In those few minutes of silence, Honey soon became aware of everyone staring at them. The other hosts desperately tried to grab their client’s attention, only to be ignored to stare at the blue boy wonder. Honey looked around helplessly, searching high and low for inspiration. Until his tummy rumbled and provided him with that essential eureka moment.

 

“Puki-chan! Do you like cake?” Honey’s eyes glazed over with sparkles. He could not wait to dive into the dark cake in front of him. He could imagine it now. Sweet, dark, rich, crumbly, chocolate-y goodness on his tongue and down his throat, delighting his taste buds, satisfying his tummy. He stared at Puki-chan for an answer. The blue stranger flicked through his green book once again. Then he looked up and nodded. Then his blue eyes finally saw the cake in front of him.

 

“Schwarzwälder kirschtorte.”

 

Honey looked at him, tilting his head. Soon he clocked on that it must have been the German name for the cake. He looked up at Mori who had a smile tugging at his lips. Mori got up and walked over to the refreshment tray to grab the knife. Honey sat forward so he could see the blue stranger even closer. He noticed that the stranger in blue was looking down at his lap, obviously too shy to say anything.

 

“Do you like it here in Japan?”

 

The stranger nodded. Honey sighed. He did not know how he was going to make him enjoy his time with them. He played with his bunny a bit more. But, like always, Mori came in to save the day.

 

“Mitsukuni and I do martial arts.” Mori stated as he laid the table down with the required cutlery. The strange boy looked up and smiled at him. He flicked through his green book once more and began to ask questions.

 

“You like m-martial art?” He asked Honey as Mori cut the cake into eighths. Honey blinked. What was he doing wrong? How did Mori make him talk like that? Soon the blond boy realised where he was going wrong. He was asking the boy questions. Perhaps he did not like questions? Honey smiled and hugged Usa-chan.

 

“Yes! It’s great fun! And I’m very good at it.” Honey grinned. He liked how suddenly his guest was more relaxed. The male client shuffled into the couch and looked up. He was kind of cute when he was smiling. Like a bunny rabbit. Every now and then he flicked back to his book.

 

“Takashi-san l-like martial arts?”

 

“He’s the best there! He also does kendo club with me!” Despite Honey’s praise, Mori’s face still kept as emotionless as ever as he served the cake. The way it sat happily on his plate made Honey more anxious to scoff it. But he had to wait for Mori to be done.

 

“The big ch-cherry tree a f-few minutes a-away is very p-pretty.” The new client remarked quietly.

 

“Wait ‘til you see it fully in bloom! You’ll love it then!”

 

Mori had finished serving the dessert once Honey said that. Honey inspected the cake. Now he could see the different layers more clearly. Each layer consisted of cream and cherries wedged in between slabs of chocolate sponge. Honey’s eyes sparkled once more. He decided that he truly did love anyone from Germany. Honey waited until Mori sat down. Then he tucked in. He loved it, just like he predicted. It was rich and chocolate-y, just like he said, but it was also creamy and sweet from the cherries. He hummed happily. He was beginning to like Anna as a person. She may have been very masculine but she knew how to make chocolate cake! Honey happily ate his slice of cake before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Mitsukuni, don’t eat too much or you won’t be able to eat your dinner.” Mori advised him from beside him. Honey frowned.

 

“I won’t.” He pouted. He looked across to the boy. The brunette smiled delicately at him and gently ate a bit of his slice of cake. Observing him eat so slow sent Honey crazy. Honey wanted to eat it for himself. His own slice was not a portion. It was a meagre crumb. Yet Mori had cut the new boy enough to feed him forever. Honey crossed his arms defiantly. The boy opposite looked like he ate enough cakes in his time. Mean but true. And the way he gently scooped up a part of delicious splendour and toyed with it, nibbling here and there or letting his tongue poke through. He sucked in little crumbs yet seem to play with the spoonful. Honey had inhaled his part of the cake in no time flat. Cautiously he looked up at Mori. His dark eyes seem to concentrate on the boy opposite. The boy noticed this and smiled shyly before resting his bowl on the table. Honey whispered into Mori’s ear, pleading and begging for a few more crumbs. Mori shook his head and kept observing the boy in front. Honey frowned and looked at him too. Suddenly the boy was back with his scruffy book again, flicking through it expertly.

 

“Please excuse me.” He got up and bowed apologetically. Honey decided that the new boy was eagerly polite. And a bit scary. Mori continued to watch him like a security camera. Honey was the one to ask the question.

 

“Where are you going?” He asked innocently. Slowly the male looked up and smiled.

 

“Tea.”

 

That is when Mori acted out of character. Mori got up calmly and pushed the client in blue into his seat. Mori stared him long and hard.

 

“What would you like?”

 

“Tea... With six sweeteners please... Und milk until the colour is beige...”

 

Honey stared at them both. He had not anticipated Mori racing up from his seat like that. Neither did he realise that Puki-chan was so detailed. Silently Mori sneaked off to make the requested drink. Honey soon became self-consciousness. The female clients were staring at him again. When he looked at the male opposite, he seemed to understand that the other felt conscious of this also. Honey bit his lip, thinking of what to say. He could not really call him pretty, could he?

 

“Honey-san,” The new boy leaned forward, his bowl in his hands, his voice quiet enough to only just be heard. “Do you want my cake, Takashi’s gone?”

 

Honey blinked. He instantly regretted judging him by his tummy. Now he felt guilty and yet excited. Did he send Mori away to get tea just for Honey to have cake? Honey nodded with approval and the male client handed over the sweet dessert.

 

“How come you don’t want it?” Honey asked quickly as he began partitioning the cake into sections: Nice, Very Nice, Extremely Nice, and Divine. He decided to eat it from descending order, just in case Mori came back before he could eat it all.

 

“I don’t like cake.” The client whispered after flickering through his book again. Honey’s face shown his inner emotion. Honey was not too sure whether to be reassured about eating the cake or frightened. The boy noticed his shock and soon found an appropriate sentence formed in his head.

 

“I don’t have a sweet tooth... I have a... Salt tooth?” His brown eyebrows furrowed together into a thick line across his forehead as he questioned his book’s translation. Honey did not mind his translation. He was more surprised by his explanation. How come Puki-chan was slightly tubby if he didn’t have a sweet tooth? Honey did not bother to ask questions though. He wolfed the slices of cake down before Mori could come back. He loved the moist crumbs and the sweet taste with the creamy texture, with the after-bite of the cherries.

 

“Is it natural to have a salt tooth?” Honey mumbled with his mouth full. He did not stop to consider how his guest may have felt. And he was beginning not to care.

 

“My mother is baker,” Honey’s Puki-chan laughed nervously, “I sick of her cakes a long time ago.”

 

Honey looked up at him, delight lighting up his face like a torch. He finally concluded that his client was an odd boy. Very odd not to love cake. Very odd indeed to get sick of his mother’s cake. But his heart was in the right place. Honey specifically noted that when the blue client began whispering frantically: “Takashi-san, Takashi-san!”

 

Honey scooped up the last piece of cake and shoved the bowl into the German/Russian’s hands. His guest started miming eating the last non-existent crumble of the dessert as Mori walked over with a cup of tea on a silver tray. Mori carefully laid it down before the guest and then sat down next to his cousin. Honey, now knowing the guest’s secret about his savoury tooth, could not help but ponder over why he needed so much sweetener in his tea. Then he noted that he lifted the tea to moisten his lips and then set it down again.

 

“Danke Takashi-san.” His blue eyes glittered a little behind his glasses as the warmth from the tea had spread to his cheeks. Mori nodded his welcome. His eyes rested on Usa-chan.

 

“Puki-chan?” Honey asked, wondering what was going on in the other’s foreign head.

 

“May... I... hold Usa-chan?” His voice squeaked. A blush rose onto his cheeks and he looked down slightly. He pulled up his glasses once more and shuffled in his seat.

 

“Of course...” Honey said hesitantly, passing the stuffed toy over reluctantly. He observed as his guest looked up and smiled gratefully. The blue wonder moved the rabbit’s limbs. He rose Usa-chan so he covered his face, his beady black eyes looking at Honey endearingly.

 

“Konnichiwa, Honey-sempai!” The guest made a high-pitch voice and spoke behind the rabbit, commanding his hand to wave to him. Honey gasped and bounced up and down. He pulled on the darker boy’s arm. He whispered excitedly:

 

“Takashi! Usa-chan is talking!”

 

Mori could not help but smile at him, and this in turn made Honey smile back.

 

“Konnichiwa Usa-chan!” Honey giggled back.

 

“My friend is a bit shy,” Usa-chan continued to talk, “So I’m to help him talk to you!”

 

“Okay, Usa-chan!”

 

Usa-chan nodded his little pink head and then said: “Firstly, you and you, know each other, how?”

 

Honey could see his guest skim the pages of his book once again whilst holding up Usa-chan with one hand.

 

“I and Takashi are cousins.” The shorter of the cousins explained: “We both join in with the Host Club.”

 

Usa-chan nodded his head: “My friend has a cousin too. His cousin looks after him also.” The pink bunny looked at Mori for a minute and then it went back to Honey.

 

Honey smiled warmly. Inside he knew it was just his new client hiding behind his Usa-chan, but there was something endearing about it. He was not too sure whether that, despite talking to him a little, the client was still shy or whether it was how he made Usa-chan, who was forever lovingly inanimate and mute, suddenly burst with life. Or perhaps it was how the shy boy in front of him changed into being inquisitive and a little courageous. Honey decided to play innocent to his charade, like a child with a magician.

 

“My friend asks if you could teach me some martial-art moves...” Honey’s childhood friend nodded to him. Honey giggled and nodded, standing up. He stretched his legs out a little and crouched, like being in a sitting position. His mahogany eyes glanced at his precious bunny, who was copying off him, sitting on the boy’s leg.

 

“Then you punch like this!” His fist swept through the air quickly and stopped when his arm had reach its full stretch capacity. Usa-chan copied him sloppily, his tubby arms outstretched. Honey clapped his hands wildly.

 

“That’s how you do it, Usa-chan!”

 

“Hoy-ah! I’m a kung-fu master!” Usa-chan flipped his limbs wildly and consequently knocked over his puppeteer’s beverage. The cup shattered on the floor and splashed both the puppeteer and Mori. The brunette gasped and began gathering the fragments of china, mumbling frantically in what Honey thought had to be Russian or German. Honey checked Usa-chan; not a single stain. He then checked Mori. The consumable had littered the tips of his trousers.

 

“Takashi?” Honey’s voice just reached the taller male’s ears. He nodded and blinked silently. Then he arose and mopped his trousers down with a spare napkin. Then he did likewise to the other boy’s legs. This gained him a blush from the client. The client then risen from the ground and threw the china of his former tea-cup into the litter-disposer. He sat back down, flushing.

 

“Well, Puki-chan, the next appointments will be coming soon so you’ll have to leave.” The boy lolita type said blankly, somewhat dazed from the sudden events. The boy opposite nodded his head shyly, strands of his mousey hair hiding his face, adding to his aura of mystery. He stood up and walked over to where the two hosts were. He held out his hand for Honey to shake. Realising he knew how to look cuter, the young-looking boy pounced on his mysterious client.

 

His arms wriggled around his Puki-chan’s waist as he squashed his face into the other’s stomach. That’s when a sudden warmth hit his selfish heart. The further his face dug into the cuddly being, he genuinely felt more emotionally attached to the male. The male client was not like the other boys. Honey’s arms went right round the other boys and met again, they were too undernourished. No bone or meat to cling to, nothing to snuggle. But this intruder, this stranger, made him feel something different. Honey’s arms wrapped around the other and rendezvoused at the other boy’s back. The whole of the guest’s body seemed to be gently protected with a supportive layer of a squishy substance that made best for cuddling. All the cakes he was forced to taste, all the salty snacks he helped himself to, Honey sighed inwardly, must have been the factor make him so darn... huggable. So warm and fuzzy, just like Usa-chan.

 

When the host looked up, he saw two wide, bright eyes glimmer back at him. Two arms wrapped around him and gave him a quick squeeze before retreating back to their side positions. Honey took this as a plea to let go.

 

The client then gave Usa-chan a fleeting kiss, his lips brushing the teddy’s material and then leaving. He spun round on his feet to face Mori. He held out his hand once more, awaiting for the scarier one of the duo to shake his hand. Instead he got the unexpected, a dagger of electricity striking up his arm as his hand reached Takashi’s face. Honey watched his cousin, slightly intrigued at why his genuinely quiet and reclusive relative decided to kiss the client’s hand. The male then staggered backwards timidly and then grabbed his satchel. Hurriedly he rammed his precious books into his holder and swung it across his shoulder. Twirling round, he bowed for one last time, smiled and whispered: “I look to seeing you around, da?”

 

Then he sauntered off. A dazing sensation swallowed Honey into its bottomless pit. The smallest host did not understand why. Something about that boy seemed to captivate his mind, even if he was not what Honey first thought he would be like. Everything from his voice to his texture, it all stained his memory.

 

Suddenly Honey’s observance heightened. Mori’s lips were dark red. Mori licked his lips unconsciously. He gasped silently and sharply gestured to the client who was making his way pass the gawping wave of yellow. The client stuck out alarmingly. As he bumped into a few of the females, his bloodied hands left imprints on their attire. He apologised and bowed more times than necessary but did not know about his bleeding hands. The girls just stared at him like an alien.

 

Honey carried on staring after him until he felt something foreign poke his hands. He looked at the object. It was Puki-chan’s paper. His eyes read Kyoya’s hand-writing. It listed his new friend’s appointments, when, who with and what events were occurring. But something significant stood out against the neutral colours.

 

“Go after him.” Mori whispered.

 

So Honey soon found himself running pass the girls. He did not bounce or giggle childishly with Usa-chan. He felt exposed, like his cute exterior was shattering. He diverted pass a few of the girls, the air in his hair. The army of dresses seemed like massive umbrellas; floating but still getting in the way. Honey found it ironic how the tides changed. The hosts were the army with the girls as an alliance, the stranger was the sworn enemy. And now he was the ally and the females were the army of distractions.

 

The newest ally turned around as Honey’s hand tugged on his blazer. Honey shoved the paper into the other’s dripping hands. The other smiled and bowed, still clueless of his hands.

 

“Danke, Honey-san.”

 

He turned once more and made his way to a different door than what was first anticipated by Honey. The blond boy watched as the brunette slipped into darkness of the next room without hesitation. Hazily he walked back to his tall companion and sit down next to him. Mori’s mouth hung open slightly.

 

“What’s wrong Takashi?” Honey decided to ask. Mori’s eyes fixed to the door the new client just entered. Honey’s eyes followed Mori’s.

 

Suddenly he figured out why Mori was so transfixed.

 

“AHH! Look at my dress!” Anya screamed. Everyone else now stared at her. The red marks on her yellow dress stood out alertly. Soon Anna’s voice screeched as she soon realised the red hand-prints on her broad shoulders. Tamaki walked over to the middle of the room, rolling his wrists in the air and gaining everyone’s attention.

 

“Calm down, my darling princesses, calm down. It’s obvious that someone’s had a little accident and it has spiralled a bit out of control, but not to fear, my loves. I, personally, shall clean up this horrid mess at once.”

 

The girls fell for it. They swooned and they cooed as their “king” dashed off to retrieve a mop. Kyoya sighed, pushed up his glasses and wrote furiously in his notebook.

 

“Ladies, may I have your attention?” He arose from his seat and clutched his heart, once he had finished his scribbling. “I shall make sure the Host Club reimburses you for the dry-cleaning cost. Please, do remain calm.”

 

The girls the nodded, completely satisfied. They settled down to their respected host. Honey tried his best to entertain the group of three that then sat before him.

 

“Honey-chan, Usa-chan is right here.” A girl with the dimples handed his precious friend over. Honey giggled and hugged him tightly to his chest.

 

“Thank you ladies!”

 

Honey’s attention would not stick. His concentration would not settle. He noticed Tamaki trying to mop up the blood speckles on the floor. The French host had only managed to spread the mess over the floor more so. He watched as Kaoru forgot and fell over, landing rear-first.

 

“OW! MY BOTTOM!”

 

“That’s what he says after we play a game of ‘Bouncy Bed’.” Hikaru teased and helped him up, retreating back to their table. The girls squealed at the “brotherly love” and kept watching as the two argued over how Kaoru was such a ‘uke’.

 

When the end of the guests’ time ended with Honey, he gave them each a hug. None of them seemed to be made of soft tissue quite like his Puki-chan...

 

* * *

 

 

When the end of the day fell once more, Haruhi found herself having to clean up the blood. Renge wiped the tables whilst Mori moved the furniture after her, lingering like a shadow over her. The twins piled the table clothes and cutlery in a bag for the hosts’ servant to clean (also known as Haruhi). Kyoya was growling to himself in the corner, jotting down more things into his notebook. Honey thought that perhaps he was angry for paying for all the girls’ dry-cleaning. Or perhaps it was something else?

 

“I don’t see the big fuss...”

 

“... It was only a little splatter!” The twins talked aloud to themselves.

 

Tamaki pestered Haruhi, having no inspirational speech for the day. So Honey brought the task onto himself.

 

“Well, what do you guys think of him?”

 

“I love him. Totally in love with him.” Kyoya snorted in his corner.

 

“Oi! Hands off!” Haruhi grinned as she swished the mop expertly. Tamaki ran off to his corner to sulk, slipping on his way there. Kyoya did not giggle nor did he even look up. He just chewed his lip in thought.

 

 

“I don’t like him... Something’s not right with him.” Hikaru wrapped his arms around his stomach, as if it was that part of him that did not agree with the new boy. Kaoru kept silent and looked at his feet.

 

Honey frowned. They did not give him anything to comment on. So he decided to make his own comments.

 

“He wasn’t what I thought he’d be like.” He bounced up to Haruhi with Usa-chan. Haruhi smiled and tilted her head, her mopping halted.

 

“What did you think he was going to be like, Honey-sempai?”

 

“I thought he was going to have sun-glasses and a big Russian nose! Like Ivan Braginski!”

 

Haruhi shrugged apologetically and shook her head.

 

“I’ve never heard of Ivan Braginski, is he a popular person with rich kids?”

 

The other hosts sniggered, not wishing to tell their common servant about Ivan. Then Hikaru started arguing with Kaoru over whether or not Ivan Braginski really did have sunglasses. Haruhi blinked, deciding that she will just have to find it out herself. Honey looked up at Mori, who had moved the furniture into their respectful place for the following morn.

 

“What about you, Mori? How did he taste?”

 

Mori’s sleepy eyes stared at Honey for a moment, his usual blank mask on his face.

 

“He tasted bitter-sweet.” And with that comment, Mori looked back up, gazing at something far away in his mind. Honey skipped over to Tamaki, who was now nibbling on a cookie in his corner. Tamaki’s corner was like Kyoya’s aurora; dark, miserable, an impenetrable fortress.

 

“Tama-chan! How did you feel about the new boy?”

 

Tamaki mumbled something incomprehensible, his teeth making quick work on his cookie. Honey heard Haruhi’s sighing from behind him.

 

“I didn’t hang up the clothes today because the forecast said it was raining,” Haruhi rung her mop of the blood, all the splatters dripped into the bucket. “But look outside, the sun could quite easily dry the clothes!”

 

Tamaki raced across the room and suffocated his precious “daughter” in a warm embrace.

 

“I know! It was wrong yesterday too! Let’s go and enjoy Japan’s freaky weather together, like father and daughter!”

 

Haruhi smirked and shook her head.

 

“Sorry, senpai, I have to go home and make sure I have everything sorted for dinner.” Then Haruhi growled at a certain blood stain on one of the table-clothes, standing out alarmingly against the white fabric.

 

“I guess that boy has stained the whole Host Club!" Renge laughed as she held up more washing for Haruhi.

 

Honey watched the whole scene with delight, if not a bit sorry for Haruhi-chan. He loved watching the other hosts and their funny dramas. But he liked being the centre of the attention more. So he looked around. His gaze registered that they were finished packing up. The washing was in one sack, the cutlery in another sack. The tables were lined up for the morning, in case anyone needed the music room. The pictures were dusted, the floor freshly mopped. The room smelt like antiseptics and dust. The same dusty smell that was always in the room was the day was over. And, as Mori grabbed Honey’s hand, the cutest host realised it was time for Mori and him to go. It was Mori’s kendo class, after all.

 

The sun lowered itself, creating a golden glow, as Honey watched Mori’s kendo lesson. He admired how his cousin was so quick with his training-stick, slicing through the air with a blunt object. But every now and then, Honey always got distracted. He always waited outside the bamboo-door, sticking his head through to watch. But one of the kendo boys, Hanai, always glared at Honey. His eyes narrowed and his mouth snarled as Honey was caught peeping in. To remove suspicion, Honey looked outside to the cherry path regularly to avoid his gaze.

 

The blond boy watched the scenes outside, all as unique as the next.

 

He saw Renge leave first, kicking the stray leaves that lay in piles underneath the trees. She often did that, whether it be leaves or twigs or blossoms. The cleaners would often be a few feet behind her, tidying the organic mass back into their neat piles, ready for collection.

 

The next scene he saw was Haruhi, dragging along her bags of cleaning. She hummed a commoner tune as she walked beneath the cherry trees and the growing normal trees. Her bags made clinking sounds and disrupted the new piles of leaves. He watched as she finally left the little slice of nature, the cleaners brushing up the leaves once again.

 

The third scene was quick. He watched two boys run underneath the trees, sprinting in between the leaves. The branches of the trees shadowed and covered them from the golden light, they were the moving shadows that dominated the night versus the candle light. They shouted to each other, laughing and giggling. The one that was ahead seemed to be wearing a long coat of some sort, with odd-sized hands. The one that was behind was average-height, and was slightly curvy. Honey blinked. It could have been his Puki-chan, but it could have been any other boy.

 

That is when a thought popped into his mind.

 

When he looked at his Puki-chan’s piece of paper, Kyoya adressed him as “The Male Freak”. Why did he do that? Kyoya was never normally so upfront about his dislike for people, especially clients.

 

A heavy hand rested on Honey’s shoulder, leading him to jump.

 

“Takashi! You made me jump!”

 

And with that, Mori and Honey walked together down the tree-path, just as Renge and Haruhi had done before them. He saw a quick glimpse of the boy at the end as he ran out of the shadows and into the sunshine.

 

“Mitsukunni, why did you call him ‘Puki-chan’?” The darker of the two questioned, as the boy who revealed himself was definitely Honey’s Puki-chan. Honey wondered briefly, before answering.

 

“...He looks like a Puki-chan... Don’t you think?”

 

Mori shook his head but gave no more comments. The twosome strolled to their chauffer’s car, who parked just outside the cherry tree path. The cherry tree path was always a famous part at Ouran Academy, a shade for the summer and a beautiful place, with the cherry trees and normal trees. The largest cherry tree sat on the side, not wishing to conform to the rest. And as Honey admired the rebellious tree, a certain comment stuck inside his head, a thought that persisted and refused to shift from his brain.

 

_“I guess that boy has stained the whole Host Club!"_

* * *

 

 

Looking back, Honey realised just how attached he was to Puki-chan, and how immediate it was too. Him, Puki-chan and Usa-chan had their own silent pact after all- not to tell Mori about the extra cake.

 

Since he did not wish to look at any of the other hosts, he decided to keep his eyes transfixed on his little buddy.

 

Honey stared at Usa-chan in his hands, remembering how his Puki-chan’s hands made Usa-chan come to life so easily. How his lips kissed Usa-chan, just like Honey’s did so on a regular basis. Honey hugged Usa-chan, comforting his poor teddy at its saddest hour. Mori’s heavy hands lay on his tiny shoulders once more as a sign for comfort. When Usa-chan was finished getting comforted, Honey saw that Puki-chan really did stain the Host Club. Not only their hearts and minds, but physically.

 

For Puki-chan’s hands prints were left on Usa-chan’s sides.

 

_Outside the world seemed lighter, but this light was artificial, and therefore deceptive._

 


End file.
